


Flu Season

by The-Winter-Maximoff (kindersuprisefics)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Hes also a really dramatic baby, I do take requests, I guess there's a little bit of sick induced angst?, I swear the next one will be better, I'm honestly jealous tho like where's my T'challa when I'm sick, M/M, Sickfic, Zemo probably has the flu or something I dunno, and like vomiting in one scene, is that triggering to anyone?, oh wait that's right I'm single, or like you know, so poor T'challa could've just made him some soup and called it a day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindersuprisefics/pseuds/The-Winter-Maximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zemo is wakes up sick and T'challa does his best to help him.</p><p>On top of being a busy Wakandan King of course. </p><p>((This takes place a while after my first Z'challa fic. So this is an established and progressing relationship.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flu Season

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I'm just gonna warn you I was really not well while writing this so this isn't my best. It's a bit slow in my opinion. I hope my future fics are better. Also if you have any requests you can message me here.....also like...if you just wanna talk about Z'challa....or T'challa, or Zemo....totally message me on my tumblr I'm a lonely nerd ((though I'm keeping my shipping low key on there...)) 
> 
> Well enjoy~

Waking up today felt like the worst decision he had ever made, just opening his eyes caused his head to pound and now the world was spinning around. 

“You do not look well this morning.” 

T’challa’s voice is almost soothing, if Zemo wasn't feeling so awful he probably would have initiated that they do something nice. 

He's about to speak but instantly he feels a sharp pain in his throat, his hands go to clamp around his neck. His whole body felt warm and achy, Zemo wants so badly to go back to sleep. 

“It's okay, lie back down.” T’challa whispers calmly, helping Zemo rest back against the fluffy pillows, “you're sick, you'll have to stay here today.”

He puts his hand on Zemo’s forehead, heat radiating off of him like a furnace. What was even worse was that his hands were cold and clammy, he needed to cool down fast. 

Zemo feels frustrated that he can't communicate his thoughts, wanting to ask for some coffee for his throat. He doesn't move though as T’challa looks him over, used to how worried he got when ever something was wrong. 

“Stay here, I'm going to get you something.”

But as soon as T’challa gets up to leave, a cold hand is tugging him back by his wrist. He looks back to see Zemo looking at him with a panicked expression. He felt miserable, he didn't want to be alone like this. 

T’challa smiles understandingly, “don’t worry I'm just getting something for you.” He says reassuringly, leaning over to kiss the sick man's forehead, “I'll be right back.” 

Zemo wants to lean in but the contact ends as soon as it happens and now he's laying back down again in the empty room. 

He turns on his side and coughs, feeling how heavy his chest felt with each gasp of breath he took. He tries to remain still for the rest of the time, silently praying that T’challa would hurry. His entire body felt like a beating nerve, even a small movement hurt. 

Zemo sighs with relief once he hears T'challa comes back into the room, feeling the bed dip down as he sits next to him. 

“Here, this should help you speak again.” He helps him sit up, letting Zemo lean against him as he helps him take a sip of the soothingly warm tea. Once he feels steady enough T’challa lets him hold the cup to continue sipping from it, using the freedom of his hands to rub soothing circles on Zemo’s back. It feels nice to his aching body.  
“Thank you.” He whispers, voice still hoarse and scratchy, regretting talking instantly. 

“Of course. I shall stay with you today in order to take care of you.” 

Zemo nods as he takes another drink, letting the warm, sweet liquid run down his sore throat. He feels T’challa’s arms wrap around his waist and he smiles. 

“Are you sure you're staying just to take care of me?” He asks, smirking up at T’challa as he leaned his head back against his shoulder, “I know one way you could make me feel better.” 

T’challa laughs and shakes his head, “I have no intentions of getting myself sick.” He responds, relishing in amusement at the mock look of disappointment on Zemo’s face, “once you are better though, I promise.” 

“I'm holding you to that.” 

“You're speaking easier, did the tea help?” 

Zemo nods, “mhm, but I still feel like hell.” 

“You need to rest.” 

He takes the empty cup from the sick Sokovian, putting it on the night stand and he climbed back into bed with Zemo, pulling him into a comfortable embrace. 

Zemo relaxes and slowly feels himself falling asleep again, closing his eyes and melting against the king’s warm body, comforted by the soothing closeness. 

“I'm feeling better all ready.” 

 

Zemo had probably only gotten half an hour of more sleep, T’challa had also accidentally fallen asleep with him, but it wasn't too long before that peacefulness ended abruptly. 

T’challa was instantly awake the second Zemo bolted up out of bed, shakily stumbling across that room and into the bathroom. T’challa sighs and gets up to follow as he hears the sound of him throwing up violently. 

Zemo looked so pathetic and helpless like this, leaned over the porcelain bowl and clinging to the sides for dear life and all the contents of his stomach were retched out of him forcefully.  
T'challa kneels beside him, rubbing his shoulders as he couldn't do anything but wait for him to finish. It felt like forever until he was finally finished, slumping forward as he shook from exhaustion. T’challa pulls him up, holding him with one arm while he reaches over to flush the contents down the drain and pull the seat back down so he could set Zemo on top of it. 

He can feel the smaller man leaning forward against him as he grabs a wash cloth from the towel rack, wetting it with warm water. T’challa tips Zemo's head back to he could gently dab at the man’s puffy, bloodshot eyes with the cloth, then folding it over to wipe his mouth. 

“Let's get you back to bed.” T’challa suggests, swiftly picking up Zemo bridal style, who only whimpers in response and hides his face in T’challa’s shoulder. It's a quick stride to the bedroom and he's thankful that he's able to deposit Zemo back into bed without the man throwing up on him. 

Zemo curls into a fetal position and pulls the silk sheets over his head, silently wishing to sleep through this cold off. 

“Thank you.” He says in a small muffled voice from under the sheets, feeling slightly guilty that he couldn't really show how grateful he was for being cared for like this. 

“I need to leave for a little bit, but I'll be back with medicines for you soon.” T'challa rests a hand on top of Zemo's shoulder, “will you be alright without me?”

“I won't throw up on your silk sheet.” He mutters sarcastically in reply, “promise.” 

T’challa only smiles and rolls his eyes, nothing could ever crush Zemo's spirit, and knowing that always made him worry less. 

Of course Zemo would never reveal how lonely he felt without the other man around. He stays silent as he listens to T’challa leave, hugging his knees a little tighter to his chest once the door shuts and he's alone. Now time feels slow and with nothing else to focus on Zemo's pain is getting to him again. He tosses and turns, every position he tries only stays comfortable for a few minutes. His muscles ached everywhere, keeping him from finding any peace. 

Seconds began to feel like hours, and T'challa had only been gone for five minutes.  
Zemo couldn't believe how weak he was being, he had been through far worse situations but yet here he was curled in a fetal position rocking back and forth as he went mad from a common cold. 

‘Where the hell is he?! Come back already!’

‘Don't fucking cry you idiot you'll have to talk about it if he sees!’

He wipes at his eyes frustratedly, that damned fever was really getting to him, he couldn't believe how he was acting. 

“Just fucking breathe, Zemo.” He reprimands himself, sitting up in bed and trying to hold himself up, it'll give him something to keep his mind off of the time. 

 

Meanwhile, T’challa was away, dealing with more than he had hoped to, managing things from politics to scheduling meetings. It wasn't his initial intention, but given that Zemo’s illness was spontaneous, he wasn't able to give everyone a heads up that he would be preoccupied today. Fortunately for T’challa though, it was a natural gift of his to control his emotions. He wasn't sure how he'd explain why he was tense with worry, considering only a select couple of people knew about Zemo. As far as the world was concerned, the Sokovian terrorist was being held in a Wakandan prison.  
It wasn't till hours later he was finally free to his original mission, which ironically only took him a few seconds to acquire the needed medicine for Zemo. He sighs in relief, feeling all the weight of worry leave him as he was on his way back home. 

As soon as he's out of the car he lets his assistant know that he'll be busy for the rest of the day, to which she nods understandingly and leaves him to it. 

T'challa’s almost running as he hurries up the stairs, picking up the pace once he was down the hall from the room. 

“I am so sorry, I did not plan to be out for so long,” he quickly apologizes upon entering the room, making sure to close and lock the door behind him, he quickly turns around in panic at  
the silence in the room but it immediately surprised with a suddenly weight leaning against him. 

“Helmut?” 

The Sokovian had his arms wrapped around him, hiding his feverish face in T’challa’s shoulder, breathing heavily and trembling. 

“Look at me, are you okay?” He asks him uncertainly, putting a hand on his back to support him. 

Zemo looks up at him, he looked dazed and not completely there, eyes puffy and bloodshot, hair matted to his sweaty forehead. It made T’challa shudder imagining how long his absence must have felt to the sick man. It was morning when he had left, and now the sun was setting. 

“You came back.” Zemo’s voice was low and raspy, making it obvious that it probably hurt him to talk. 

“Of course I did, I brought you medicine.” T’challa replies, guiding him back to the bed and helping him sit carefully, Zemo clings to his arms as the movements made him dizzy. His eyes are squeezed shut to block out the spinning, knowing it would only make him nauseous.  
T’challa goes to another part of the room for a moment, returning to Zemo's side with a cup of water. With little effort he's able to get Zemo to swallow the pills and then he pulls him into his arms, holding Zemo protectively and feeling the smaller man relax in his arms. 

“I'm so sorry for leaving you like this for so long, it was not my intention.” He apologizes, closing his eyes in relief that he was home. 

Zemo shakes his head,”it's fine…at least it was quiet for once without you here…” He replies bitterly in a muffled voice, trying to sound as though he didn't really care, but his hands are clinging to T’challa tightly, and he exhales sharply to hide the sob that threatens to leave, “I did miss you though T’challa….so don't do that again. Please?” 

T’challa sighs and hugs Zemo tighter, he was surprised, considering Zemo wasn't one to even admit his feelings, let alone express that he was lonely without him here, even if it was expressed in his own, Zemo-ish way. 

“I won't.” 

“Good.” 

And as if on impulse their lips are connected, T’challa’s hands gingerly holding Zemo's head while said man melts automatically from the much needed affection. After all these months together was strange to be apart and so vulnerable without each other, well on Zemo's behalf anyway. They part from the kiss and stare at each other, the fact of what they had just done sinks in with each moment. Then it hits T’challa and he's even too frozen to roll his eyes at such a stupid mistake. 

“You know you're going to get sick now, right?” 

T’challa sighs. 

“Yes.”


End file.
